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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966383">In The Negative</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elton_the_skeleton/pseuds/elton_the_skeleton'>elton_the_skeleton</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Logic | Logan Sanders Are Best Friends, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, I KNOW HAVING A STRAIGHT CHARACTER IN THIS FANDOM IS A CRIME BUT I SHALL DO AS A PLEASE, I promise emile and remy will be in here eventually just gimme a bit, M/M, Nonbinary Deceit | Janus Sanders, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Trans Male Morality | Patton Sanders, Trans Morality | Patton Sanders, after they reach zero they go into the negative, counter appears on your 16th bday, emile is straight, janus and virgil are neighbors, janus still uses he/him tho bc some nb ppl be like that, remile is platonic, remy sanders is aro/ace, their parents are divorced, timers count down until you meet your soulmate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:07:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elton_the_skeleton/pseuds/elton_the_skeleton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman and Virgil have been friends since they first meet in kindergarten. Well, maybe friends is the wrong word. But they've definitely tolerated each other! Sure, they've had their ups and downs, but they've always made it through. </p><p>But can they survive the realization that they're soulmates? As their vastly different worldviews collide, how long can secrets and lies be concealed? </p><p>Even after it all, will they be able to come back stronger? </p><p>Will they even want to?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani &amp; Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Virgil Hates Math (And Soulmates)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's Virgil's sixteenth birthday. Which means he gets his soulmate timer! But now Virgil has to do math. Virgil hates math.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Deep breaths. It’s fine. You’re fine. Everyone goes through this. You’re fine.</em>
</p><p><br/>Virgil took another look at the clock on his bedside table. <strong>11:57.</strong> Because obviously so much had changed since he last checked thirty seconds ago.</p><p><br/>News flash: not much had changed.</p><p><br/>Other than being thirty seconds closer to his entire life potentially flipping upside down, that is. No pressure or anything.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>11:58.</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Oooooooooh, okay. Two minutes away now. No need to freak out. Who’s freaking out? It sure isn’t me!</em>
</p><p><br/>Virgil was, in fact, freaking out.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>11:59.</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshitshtshitshit…</em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>12:00.</strong>
</p><p><br/>Virgil pulled down his sleeve before he had the time to properly think it through. If he gave himself any more time to think, he would never look.</p><p><br/>There, on his wrist was a number. A number set to count down until the moment he met his soulmate. So like he said, no pressure. No pressure at all.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.115.15.21.3</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.115.15.21.4</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.115.15.21.5</strong>
</p><p><br/><em>Yeah okay. Okay. That’s to be expected. About ten years until I met my soulmate.</em> He could live with that. Most people would be impatient, but Virgil was just happy to have some time to prepare himself. He probably wouldn’t start being overly anxious about it until a few days before. Or months. Maybe years… don’t judge!</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.115.15.21.9</strong>
</p><p><br/>Wait, was that? Was that a negative?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.115.15.21.10</strong>
</p><p><br/>Holy shit, it was! Did that mean…? Had he met his soulmate more than 10 years ago?</p><p><br/>Okay, Virge, quick maths. 16 minus 10 equals…</p><p><br/>He had met his soulmate at the age of 6.</p><p><br/><em>Actually</em>, some small part of his brain that was still capable of using reason chimed in, <em>at the age of 5, because of those 115 days.</em></p><p><br/><em>Shut up brain</em>, Virgil fired back. Because he was talking to himself now, because he was crazy, because he had to do math and math made him crazy. Oh, and because HE HAD KNOWN HIS SOULMATE SINCE THE FUCKING AGE OF FIVE.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahhhh okay, this is my first time posting any fanfiction. Not gonna lie, I'm nervous as hell.</p><p>I know this chapter is short, but I really wanted to get it posted before I chickened out. </p><p>I have most of the dynamics I want for this story worked out (and definitely not diagrammed on a poster board, because that'd be ridiculous). </p><p>I can't even pretend I'm going to post regularly lol. But I'm going to try my ding dang hardest not to abandon this!</p><p>The tags, rating, and warnings are all subject to change. I don't have plans to make it dark, but life never really goes how it's planned, so please be cautious. </p><p>In case anyone is confused, the soulmate timers go Years.Days.Hours.Minutes.Seconds. Because I just have to make it more complicated for myself.</p><p>Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you catch a typo, roast the hell out of me. Please ask if you have questions!</p><p>This end note is edging towards being longer than the actual chapter ahhhhh. </p><p>Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Lunchtime Debacle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lunch on the day Virgil got his soulmark. Not everyone is very courteous to his privacy. Especially a particular person whose name may or may not start with an R and rhyme with demus.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>BANG! A lunch tray slapped down in front of Virgil. </p><p><br/>“So, let’s see it then!”</p><p><br/>Virgil sighed. He <em>knew</em> that eating lunch in the cafeteria would be a bad idea. The noise and smell of hundreds of teenagers trapped in a room together? <em>Noooo, thank you</em>.</p><p> <br/>It didn’t help that it was the last day of school before winter break. Even though it was the Saturday before Christmas, they had school. Apparently, the public school system in their town <em>sucked</em> at making schedules. They hadn’t actually put enough hours into the schedule to meet the legal limit, so they had had a school-wide vote as to how to make the hours up. Turns out, a whole bunch of teenagers from Florida would rather add a day of school on a weekend than add a half-hour of school every Friday. <em>Go figure</em>. They didn’t even have finals until after break, so being here on a Saturday was <em>so</em> ridiculous that everyone was in a bad mood. </p><p>Virgil usually ate with Logan in the library. It wasn’t <em>technically</em> allowed, since he wasn’t a member of the National Honors Society like Logan was, but no one ever paid much mind. Even Logan, who was usually such a stiff about rules like that, had encouraged the habit. He seemed to understand Virgil’s aversion to the cafeteria more than anyone. </p><p><br/>But Logan had a test next period that he simply <em>had</em> to study for. He practically shoved Virgil out the door when he interrupted. Virgil wasn’t offended. He had had plenty of time to adjust to his friend’s strange habits.</p><p><br/>That didn’t mean he was happy about eating in the cafeteria. Sitting across from Patton in the back corner away from everyone wasn’t so bad, but… in the cafeteria, he always had to be on guard for <em>Remus</em>.</p><p><br/>“Hellllloooooo? Emo! I said let’s see it then!” Remus was standing directly to the left of Virgil, lunch tray full of god-knows-what clumsily balanced on the table. </p><p><br/>Virgil rolled his eyes and decided to ignore him.</p><p><br/>“Come on, Remus. Let Virgil be! I’m sure getting his soulmark is a stressful experience,” Patton interfered. </p><p><br/><em>Patton is just trying to help. He’s just trying to help, he’s just trying to help</em>, Virgil repeated to himself. Any mention of his soulmark was enough to put him on edge.</p><p> <br/>“Like you would know, <em>Daddy</em>!” Remus shot back. </p><p><br/>Patton flushed a deep red. He had long since been named the “Dad” of the friend group. When Remus found out, well, let’s just say the nickname “daddy” hadn’t taken long to develop. Patton hadn’t known what it meant at first. Virgil would never admit it… but he was almost glad Janus had explained it to him. The poor guy deserved to know, and Virgil sure as Hell wasn’t gonna be the one to tell him. </p><p><br/>“Remus! Leave them alone!” A boisterous voice came from behind Remus. </p><p><br/>Ah yes, the Prince.</p><p><br/>Look, it’s not that Virgil didn’t appreciate the help. Heck, he and Roman were friends! Mostly. Okay, maybe they had drifted apart a bit. A combination of different classes and different… <em>personalities</em> had caused quite the rift. But that didn’t change the fact that they’d known each other since kindergarten. Wistful memories of kickball games and art class still lingered in both their minds. </p><p><br/>So yeah, Virgil appreciated the help. He really did. Roman could get Remus to leave him alone better than anyone. </p><p><br/>The thing was… his methods were different than Patton’s or Logan’s. They would try and diffuse the situation. Roman more just… directed Remus’ attention to himself. </p><p><br/>“Stand back foul villain!” Roman shouted. He dropped his lunch box in favor of putting his hands on his hips as if that made him look more heroic. </p><p><br/>“Oh come ooooon, brother. I know you’re curious too!” Remus kept his gaze locked on Virgil. Virgil shrank just a bit into his hoodie, his gaze fixed firmly at the table in front of him. </p><p><br/>“I do not know of which you speak!” Roman’s speech tended to get extra <em>princely</em> in situations like these. </p><p><br/>“His soulmark, <em>dummy</em>! I want to know who is going to get boned by Virgil here!” He finally whipped away from Virgil to face his twin. </p><p><br/>Roman was taken aback by the light grey streak that now ran through Remus’ bangs. “Wait. When did you do that?”</p><p><br/>And just like that, they were on from a noble defense of the innocent to a squabble between siblings. Virgil knew the conversation would take a while to drift back to him. He shot an amused look at Patton, then turned around in his seat to watch the show. </p><p><br/>“You likey, bro? I could do yours too!” Remus had the <em>nerve</em> to reach up and stroke his mustache. </p><p><br/>“I mean-- why grey of all colors? Are you trying to look like an old man?”</p><p><br/>“I don’t need to explain my reasoning to you--” </p><p><br/>He was cut off by another figure standing close behind Roman. “He got the idea from Percy Jackson.” Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin at Janus’ voice. How did he always manage to appear out of thin air like that? He was <em>directly</em> in Virgil’s line of sight, how the actual <em>fuck</em>? </p><p><br/>“Janus! Don’t give away my secrets!” squealed Remus. </p><p><br/>“I thought Percy Jackson had brown hair?” Patton chimed in.</p><p><br/>“You don’t get to make any comments on this one, Patton! You’re the heathen that’s only seen the movies!” Remus said emphatically, turning to scowl at him. <br/>Virgil had to agree on that one. <em>Love ya, Patton, but those movies were trash. </em></p><p><br/>“Don’t talk to him like that!” Roman yelled. Normally, he would probably agree with the sentiment. But he couldn’t very well side with <em>Remus</em>. </p><p><br/>Janus smoothly cut back in. “In the third book, the Titan’s Curse, Percy and Annabeth develop matching grey streaks in their hair after holding the weight of the sky. Remus just reread said book, and decided to draw inspiration from it for his own hairstyle.” </p><p><br/>“Janus! Spoiler alert!” Remus’ voice somehow always reached decibels Virgil hadn’t thought possible.</p><p> <br/>Patton nodded. He appeared glad to be back in the loop of the conversation. </p><p><br/>“Oh.” Roman sounded almost impressed at the explanation. Then, softening just a bit, he asked Remus “Does... Dad know?”</p><p><br/>“Of course he doesn’t!” Remus’ response was too quick to be natural. “I did it late last night and he was gone by the time I got up this morning!” He grinned maniacally. “Although! On that note, Dad wants to know if you’ll be joining us for Christmas!”</p><p><br/>Janus took a seat on the right Virgil at the table. Virgil shifted uncomfortably, but he couldn't’ say he blamed him. Conversations like this between the twins tended to last a while. May as well get comfortable. </p><p><br/>“Dad can call and ask me myself,” Roman huffed.</p><p> <br/>“Like you’d answer,” Remus scoffed. </p><p><br/>Janus pulled a ziplock bag of apple slices out of nowhere and started munching on them. </p><p><br/>“I’m a very busy man! There’s a reason texting exists!”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, because you <em>always</em> answer Dad’s texts. I’ve hacked into your phone! You <em>never</em> respond!” </p><p><br/>Janus held out the bag of apple slices to Virgil. Virgil shook his head and pushed it away. Janus turned and offered it to Patton instead. Patton cautiously took an apple slice and nibbled at it.  </p><p><br/>“What did you just say about hacking into my phone!?”</p><p><br/>“Well, it wasn’t so much <em>hacking</em>. It’s just dumb to make your password your birthday when you share that birthday with another human being!” Remus smirked.</p><p><br/>Virgil had to chuckle at that one. The bag of apple slices had found a home between Janus and Patton where they could both reach it. </p><p><br/>“Well, now I’m going to change the password!”</p><p> <br/>“You do that. Anything else you could come up with would be just as predictable.”</p><p> <br/>Roman pulled his phone out of his pocket and started fiddling with the settings, a look of determination fixed on his face. </p><p><br/>Remus, satisfied that Roman was sufficiently distracted, whipped back around to Virgil, Patton, and Janus. “So, about that soulmark!”</p><p><br/>“I’m not showing you my soulmark.” He left no room for negotiation. He was definitely not going to show it to <em>Remus</em> of all people. What did Remus think he was on?</p><p><br/>“I never said you would do it voluntarily!” Before Virgil had the chance to react, Remus had lunged forward and seized Virgil’s left arm. He yanked the sleeve up, and…</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>-10.116.4.23.41</strong>
</p><p><br/>Roman perked up. Janus leaned in a bit. They were curious, as much as they’d denied it. Only Patton looked uncomfortable.</p><p><br/><em>Don’t notice the negative, don’t notice the negative, don’t notice the negative</em>, Virgil begged whatever god would listen. </p><p> </p><p>“Ten years!” Remus shrieked. “No fair! I probably don’t even know them! How am I supposed to make fun of you!”</p><p><br/>Virgil was too in shock to pull his sleeve back down. He hadn’t planned on telling <em>anyone</em> about his soulmark. <em>Maybe</em> Logan, but only because the nerd was like his brother. How could Remus just invade his privacy like that? Like it was no big deal?</p><p><br/>Roman took a step forward to get a better look. <em>So much for being chivalrous</em>.</p><p><br/>“Hey, that’s not ten years, that’s neg--”</p><p><br/>Virgil snapped out of his daze in an instant. He stood up, shaking the table. He tugged his sleeve back down and turned to face Roman and Remus. </p><p><br/>“Stop it. Both of you.” His voice was cold and stony. Scary. </p><p><br/>He grabbed his backpack and started to storm out of the lunchroom. He should’ve just eaten lunch in the bathroom to begin with, regardless of Damien’s mother’s advice in the Mean Girls Musical. </p><p><br/>Before he could get far, he felt someone grab his wrist from behind. Virgil spun around, furious. Roman stood there, begging for forgiveness with his dumb cartoon character eyes. “Hey. I’m sorry about Remus. Happy Birthday.” He gave a small smile, and then he released his wrist, letting Virgil leave. </p><p><br/>Roman glanced down at his own wrist, destined to be blank for a half a year longer. He sighed and turned back to the table.</p><p><br/>“Lunch is almost over,” he reminded the remainder of the group. “We’d better get going.” </p><p><br/>Everyone began to silently gather their things. Roman bent down to pick up his lunch box from the floor.  </p><p><br/>They left the cafeteria and went their separate ways. The half-eaten bag of apple slices was left abandoned and forgotten on the cafeteria table. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did anyone hear what Roman was going to say??????? Did Janus or Patton get a good look at the soulmark?????? How pissed is Virgil???? What is up with the twins' home life????? Find out next time! Or, the time after next time! Or the time after the time after next time! Or maybe never!! Who knows!!</p><p>I already have a good chunk written of what I plan to be the next chapter. Sneak Peek: it involves Logan and Virgil, cuz I feel like we don't see nearly enough of their friendship in most Sanders Sides stuffs. And also cuz I would deadass die for either of them.</p><p>Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated! Roast the hell out of me if you find a typo.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Logan Gets Down To Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even after Remus' not-so-kind prying, Virgil decides to share his soulmark with Logan.</p><p>Naturally, Logan gets straight (haha, straight and Logan don't belong in the same sentence) to business. He's going to help Virgil figure out who his soulmate is even if it means dealing with Virgil's meme references.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please enjoy!</p><p>TW for what could be considered anxiety attacks. We are dealing with the literal embodiment of Anxiety, so I'm not sure what you thought you were getting into. Please be careful nonetheless!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How the heck am I supposed to figure out who my soulmate is?”</p><p> </p><p>Virgil tossed down his backpack and flopped backward into Logan’s bean bag chair. Logan’s mom had gotten it for Logan in an effort to get Logan to “relax,” but Virgil was the only one that ever really used it. Normally, he wouldn’t be so comfortable in someone else’s space, but this is <em> Logan </em>we’re talking about! These dark blue walls were more familiar than his own at this point. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, what do you intend to do about it?” Logan set his bag down in a much more dignified manner, before taking a seat at his desk. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, Logan! What am I supposed to do?!” Virgil sunk deeper into the bean bag chair. “Do I even want to know how it is?” he mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you do,” Logan said sternly. “Knowledge is an incomparably valuable multi-purpose tool that is instrumental in identifying and solving any problem! If you're worried about getting hurt, then seek knowledge. It is our greatest weapon... and our greatest defense.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, L. That was deep.” <em> Not sure how it helps me, but deep </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Logan reached into his desk and pulled out a notepad and pencil. “Let’s start with what you do know.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s just it! I don’t know anything!”</p><p> </p><p>“Falsehood. You were able to calculate the day, correct?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yes. But, I don’t even know if it’s platonic or romantic!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s irrelevant for the moment,” Logan finished. “Significant in the fullness of time, certainly, but not relevant to ascertaining the <em> identity </em>of your soulmate.”</p><p> </p><p>Virgil was taken slightly aback. Logan of all people should realize… “It is too relevant. If it’s romantic then I’ve narrowed it down to just guys.” </p><p> </p><p>Logan hesitated for a second-- enough time for Virgil’s heart to drop. <em> That’s the look he gets when he’s about to shatter my world view. Fuck.  </em></p><p> </p><p> “That’s not necessarily accurate. There are a plethora of documented cases where people believed themselves one sexuality only to come to the conclusion they were another after developing a close connection with their soulmate.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh. Okay. I hadn’t thought about that. Soulmates are frustrating, sure. But I didn’t think I’d have to call into question my entire sexuality! That’s not good, that’s not good at all. It took me long enough to come to terms with the idea that I’m gay. I don’t think I could handle another sexuality crisis. Not good, not good, not good, not-- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Virgil. Please remove your fingernails from your arm.” Logan’s voice was firm. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil looked down to realize he had been scratching up a storm on his inner arm. <em> Oh </em>. The skin was already red and irritated. He quickly drew his hand back and used his hoodie sleeves to cover both hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Virgil.” Virgil finally met Logan’s gaze. His voice was professional, but Virgil could see the concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry that my observation was anxiety-inducing. It was not my intention. Would you like me to lead you through some breathing exercises?” </p><p> </p><p><em> Bless you, you sweet, sweet nerd </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Logan, but no. I’m fine now.” And he <em> was </em> fine. Or he would be at least. Sure, it was a curveball, but he already knew his soulmate could be someone other than male if it was a platonic bond. Sexuality was just another factor of many. He would burn that bridge when he got to it. </p><p> </p><p>“If you don’t mind my asking,” Logan started hesitantly, resuming their previous line of conversation, “What day did you calculate to be your soul-meeting day?”</p><p> </p><p>“August 26, 2010.” <em> This is so, so much better than when Remus was demanding it.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Does that date hold any significance for you?” Logan’s voice was on the verge of fully adopting his Sherlock persona. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I mean, I guess it does.” Virgil’s voice was low. “I knew it was around the time I started school. So... I went through the baby-book my mom used to keep for me. Turns out it’s the day I started kindergarten.” Virgil didn’t want to admit just how late he’d stayed up on his birthday, trying to find every scrap of information that existed about the day. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you need assistance calculating the exact time of day?”</p><p> </p><p>Virgil appreciated the fact that Logan hadn’t just grabbed his arm. In fact, he hadn’t requested to see the mark at all. Virgil was glad for the privacy. He didn’t have to share anything he didn’t want to. But he did want to. </p><p> </p><p>“It was 8:39, apparently.” <em> The time isn’t too hard to figure out if you look at midnight. </em></p><p> </p><p>“AM or PM?” Logan inquired.</p><p> </p><p>“AM.”</p><p> </p><p>“This may be an odd question, but what time did your elementary school begin the school day?”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a weird question. Virgil knew exactly what he was getting at.</p><p> </p><p>“8:35…” he mumbled. </p><p> </p><p>“So, it was almost definitely someone from your kindergarten class,” Logan concluded. He looked almost disappointed to have narrowed it down so quickly. The nerd was a sucker for mysteries, so much so that he sometimes forgot he wasn’t living in an Agatha Christie novel.</p><p> </p><p>“Not necessarily!” Virgil cut in hastily. “It could have been anyone that was at the school that day! They could have been in another class, or even another grade! They could even be someone who was helping drop a sibling off and didn’t even go to the school!”</p><p> </p><p>Logan gave him the Look. Virgil squirmed in the beanbag chair. </p><p> </p><p>“Virgil, all of those ideas are extremely unlikely. Take into account the time of day. If it was someone outside of your class, you likely would have met them before the school day started. As it was after the bell, it is far more probable that it is someone from your class. Unless you were late on your first day?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t late... But it’s still possible! We don’t know!” </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose if it would aid your concerns, we could keep such possibilities tacked on the board.”</p><p> </p><p>Virgil was about to mention what a strange figure of speech “tacked on the board” was, when Logan rose, walked to the other side of the room, and pulled <em>a</em> <em>literal motherfucking cork board </em>out of the closet. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil could do nothing but stare as Logan hoisted the large board up to fasten it on the wall. Finally, he composed himself enough to say, “How-- what-- why the <em> fuck </em> do you just <em> have </em>that, Logan?!” He stared wide-eyed as Logan pulled a box of thumbtacks out of his desk drawer. </p><p> </p><p>“...If you must know, I use it to map out essay concepts.” He turned around to face Virgil, a little red in the face. </p><p> </p><p>At least the dude had the decency to be embarrassed. Logan composed himself. “But for our purposes, I believe it would be beneficial for narrowing down your soulmate candidates. Do you have a copy of your kindergarten yearbook?”</p><p> </p><p>Virgil nodded. He was a little too shocked about how seriously Logan was taking this to find the corkboard hilarious. Oh God, they were going to look like that crazy guy from Stranger Things. He’d never seen the show. He didn’t need to have seen the show to know the memes. </p><p> </p><p>“Excellent. It is at your house, I presume?”</p><p> </p><p>Another nod. </p><p> </p><p>“I suggest you bring it the next time you visit. That way, we can get to work.” </p><p> </p><p>Logan wrote “Virgil’s Soulmate Investigation” in red sharpie on a piece of paper and tacked it to the top of the board. Virgil couldn’t help but think Roman would come up with a much better name for the project. </p><p> </p><p>Logan glanced at the clock on the wall and shifted uncomfortably. “For now, I suggest you leave. My father will be arriving home soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, alright.” Virgil knew better than to push his luck with Logan’s dad. “Thanks for the help, Teach”</p><p> </p><p>“Allow me to walk you to the door.”</p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later, Virgil stood at the front door, bag on his back and a note reminding him to bring the yearbook in hand. (Logan held very little trust in Virgil’s memory, even when it came to important things like this.)</p><p> </p><p>“Farewell, Virgil,” Logan said as he opened the front door. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil turned to face Logan. “Hey, L, um, before I go. I was wondering, and you don’t have to answer, but I was wondering, why, well, why you’re taking my soulmate thing so seriously when you don’t seem to care about your own?”</p><p> </p><p>Logan tilted his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, you probably care about yours, that’s not what I meant! It’s just, you still won’t show yours to anyone. Not that you have to! But you didn’t even pull out the corkboard for it. I mean, I guess it would make sense if you still had a good bit of time left, cause then there wouldn’t be much use speculating, but--”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s negative,” Logan interrupted. He didn’t meet Virgil’s eyes. “Negative,” he repeated, more to himself this time.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” That didn’t quite answer Virgil’s question, nor did it make the situation any clearer, but now they were both standing there awkwardly and he got the feeling Logan wasn’t going to share any more and why had he brought this up to begin with and OH GOD VIRGIL JUST SAY SOMETHING--</p><p> </p><p>“I’d-better-go.” Virgil said it like a single word. “See ya later, Lo.” He shot a half-smile, then speed-walked out the door and closed it behind him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One step closer to finding my soulmate! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil should feel happy about that. He really should. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The bit about mapping out essay concepts on cork boards definitely isn’t taken from my life, and definitely isn’t an effective essay-writing strategy. </p><p>I really wanna get some trans characters in here, cuz REPRESENTATION IS IMPORTANT. I haven't decided who yet tho. I'm leaning towards Janus and/or Patton and/or Remy. If ya have any preferences or suggestions, feel free to say. </p><p>Roast me if you find a typo, you cowards. </p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Janus just wants to make amends. </p><p>Virgil wants to stay as far away from those amends as possible. </p><p>Logan just wants to keep Virgil safe. </p><p>Remus just wants a nice Christmas dinner.</p><p>Roman doesn't want to thwart Remus, per-say. He wants a nice Christmas too. His idea of a nice Christmas just doesn't involve Remus. </p><p>Patton doesn't know what he wants anymore.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter looks way longer than it is because of how I spaced it lol. </p><p>TW: Caps (briefly), cursing, panic attacks, mentions of past self harm, food, stressed family dynamics (for lack of better phrasing)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <b>V i r g i l</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil didn’t like Christmas.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing against the holiday itself! But the pressure of finding gifts that people wouldn’t hate that were also affordable and also not so extravagant that it freaked people out and all the awkward social interactions and holiday shopping and how the same ten songs were always playing on repeat and--</p><p> </p><p>Let’s just say… he didn’t like it.</p><p> </p><p>Except for one part. It was a Christmas tradition in the Storm household to go next door to the Xanders for holiday dinner. It had always been a pleasant escape for Virgil. Just hanging out with his best friend, messing around with their presents, and eating a crap ton of food. </p><p> </p><p>But that was back when Virgil and Janus were best friends. </p><p> </p><p>That was back when they were friends at all.</p><p> </p><p>Now, the meal was the source of like half of Virgil’s anxiety. The thought of sitting at the same table as Janus for a few hours made him want to barf. </p><p> </p><p>On the bright side, if he barfed he could probably stay home. </p><p> </p><p>Both their families had long since realized their kids were in a fight. That tends to be the assumption when two people go from talking everyday to avoiding eye contact at all costs.</p><p> </p><p>At first, their families thought it was just a fight. Friends have those. They’d bounce back stronger. </p><p> </p><p>Then Virgil had opted to take the bus to school instead of riding with Janus.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil hated the bus with a passion. He had insisted on carpooling with Janus since he was in kindergarten. In third grade, when the Xanders were out of town and there was no option but the bus, he had refused to go to school for an entire week. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil taking the bus was the final nail in the coffin of their friendship. It was an act of war.</p><p> </p><p>Even though their parents knew they were fighting, Virgil would never be downright rude to Janus in front of his family. He loved Mr. and Mrs. Xanders like a second set of parents, and the rest of their children like the siblings he never had. </p><p> </p><p>At least he would have Janus’ younger siblings. Janus was the eldest of five, so there was always plenty of bustle in the house. It would be easy to find someone to hang out with instead of Janus. Worst case scenario, he would hide out with the family’s pet snake. </p><p> </p><p>He could do this.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil grabbed his new headphones (a gift from his parents) and pulled on a hoodie as his family walked out their front door. He pulled up the hood in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the rain. </p><p> </p><p>He could do this.</p><p> </p><p>They walked one house to the right. They started up the walkway. He could smell dinner from here. </p><p> </p><p>He could do this. </p><p> </p><p>His Mom knocked on the front door. Mr. Xanders answered. The family was ushered inside. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can do this.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R o m a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> The Evil Twin: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> come ooooooon bro, u gotta come for xmas </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> dad wants you here </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Like I care what Dad wants. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> The Evil Twin: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> fine, then come bc u wuv me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> and cuz there will be food and god knows mom can’t make anything edible </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Remus had Roman there. Mom was a horrendous cook. But Remus had no right to talk, considering the last time he’d tried to cook he’d nearly burned down the entire neighborhood. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That doesn’t mean she’s not making anything. I have to stay with her out of courtesy. What prince would leave a maiden alone on Christmas? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> The Evil Twin: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> don’t try that bullshit with me princy </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> mom’s Jewish! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Jewish people can still celebrate Christmas. Don’t be so close-minded. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> The Evil Twin: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> but she doesn’t???? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> it’s like you forget she’s my mother too. i know she wants rid of me but jfc, i do know SOME things about her. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> plus you don’t have any right to talk about close-mindedness omfg </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m not going. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, honey,” Mom said warmly from the door, as she shook out her umbrella. She had just gotten home from work at the doctor’s office. She tended to work on Christmas because she wanted to make sure the Christians she worked with got a proper day off. She was noble like that. It was one of the things Roman loved about her. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Roman set down his phone and eagerly turned to face her from where he was watching <em> Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas </em>. “Wanna join me? You can help me make fun of the pipe organ in hopes it won’t haunt our nightmares.” </p><p> </p><p>So, Disney didn’t have a lot of good Christmas films. He’d wanted something animated… so the <em> Beauty and the Beast </em>Christmas special had to do. He was only paying half attention. Even so, he couldn’t help remembering the nightmares that freaking pipe organ had given him when he was young. Remus hadn’t stopped making fun of him about it for months. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Mom was wrestling off her shoes, leaning against the doorway for balance. “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman tensed up. <em> That’s never a good way to start a conversation. </em></p><p> </p><p>Just then, Roman’s phone buzzed. Reflexively, he picked it up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Dad: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Roman, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was so happy to hear from your mother that you’ve decided to join your brother and I this evening. It means a lot to me that you want to spend Christmas with us.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wanted to wait for you to open gifts, but Remus insisted we open them the moment he woke up this morning. Still, I have a gift for you that I am rather pleased with. Since this was so short notice, you needn’t feel pressure to reciprocate.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I figured I could pick you up around 6 if that works for you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Merry Christmas! </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Roman looked up at his mother, who was now watching him from behind the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t,” he said warningly. </p><p> </p><p>“Roman…”</p><p> </p><p>“You did not tell him I would eat dinner with him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, I--”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going. You can tell him. I’m not responding.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Christmas!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going.” He was close to shouting. </p><p> </p><p>His mother moved to sit next to him on the couch. “You’re going, Roman.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m not.” He fought to keep the emotion out of his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Roman.” She put her hands on his shoulders. In her best Mom Voice, she said, “This is non-negotiable. You are going, and you’re going to be <em> pleasant </em>.” She softened slightly, “I know you and your dad have a complicated relationship…”</p><p> </p><p>Roman scoffed. “UnDeRstAtEmeNt mUch?!”</p><p> </p><p>Mom elected to ignore him. “...but he is your father and you being there for Christmas is important to him. You’re going, end of discussion.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman stared into her eyes, searching for any hesitation in them. Anything he could use to get out of this. He found nothing. He jumped from the couch and started out of the room. He had to get out of here before he started crying or something. Princes didn’t show weakness like that.  </p><p> </p><p>“Text him back, please,” Mom added as he turned into the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>Roman didn’t answer. He stormed into his room and threw himself on the bed. </p><p> </p><p>He would never go for Dad or Remus, but for his mom…</p><p> </p><p>It wouldn’t be very princely to throw a tantrum. A prince faced every adversity with charm and grace.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed, rolled onto his back, and pulled out his phone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 6 works for me Dad! Can’t wait to see you! Merry Xmas! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman rolled back over and groaned into his pillow. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>J a n u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Janus was <em> delighted </em> Virgil was going to have to deal with him for the night. They may not be close anymore, but he <em> knew </em> Virgil. He would never dare to be outright rude around his parents. He would be forced to act pleasantly for the <em> whole night </em>.  </p><p> </p><p>Part of him relished in the fact Virgil would be uncomfortable. <em> Serves him right </em> . But mostly, it was a chance to <em> talk </em> to Virgil. Yeah… they may not be as close as they once were, but Janus still had important news to disclose. </p><p> </p><p>He was done lying to his best friend about something so important. </p><p> </p><p>And if him trusting Virgil with such sensitive information helped to get Virgil back in his favor... Well, there was nothing Janus could do about that. Just an unintended outcome that happened to be beneficial. Nothing more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R e m u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Remus practically vibrated up and down from his place in the back of Dad’s car as they rolled up to his mother’s house. <em> Can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait.  </em></p><p> </p><p>As he peered eagerly out the window through the pouring rain, he saw Roman step out onto the porch, accompanied by their mom. </p><p> </p><p><em> Oh shit </em> . He hadn’t considered the possibility that he’d have to interact with his mom. <em> Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Was this what Roman felt like being forced to interact with Dad? </p><p> </p><p>No. No, that was <em> ridiculous </em>. Roman was the one that had ruined his relationship with Dad. Remus had no responsibility for the Deal with his mother. He had every right to be angry.</p><p> </p><p>Remus’ was saved from having to interact when his mother simply waved and stepped back inside. Roman began his trudge to the car. He was wearing an interesting red, yellow, and white sweater and using a bright red umbrella. He carried two neatly wrapped packages, which he was struggling to keep out of the rain.</p><p> </p><p>Roman opened the door to the backseat, then nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Remus. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here!?” he yelped, before regaining his composure and stepping into the car. He was losing a fight with his umbrella. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s not allowed to be left home alone after the <em> incident </em>,” their father piped up from the front, saving Remus from answering, as he put the car back in drive. </p><p> </p><p>Roman finally managed to wrestle the umbrella into the vehicle. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Remus shifted and tugged his sleeves down around his wrists as the car started to roll forward. Roman should really remember the <em> incident </em>. It was a pretty big deal after all…  </p><p> </p><p>Before that thought could fester too much, he yelled, “Plus, I wanted to see my favorite lil bro and wish him a Merry Christmas!!” Remus grabbed a handful of glitter from his pockets and tossed it in the air to emphasize his statement.  </p><p> </p><p>“Remus! What did I say about the glitter? And volume control<em> , please </em>.” Dad sounded tired. That was probably warranted. </p><p> </p><p>“Little bro? We’re twins, Remus.” Roman frustratedly wiped some of the glitter off of his pants. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but I’m older!” </p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re not.” </p><p> </p><p>“I <em> could </em>be! We’re identical twins! It’s totally possible that Mom and Dad accidentally mixed us up when we were babies and actually I’m older!”</p><p> </p><p>“I like to think we’re better parents than that,” their dad joked. </p><p> </p><p>Roman had a sour look on his face that implied he didn’t think they were better parents than that, but he said nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Remus couldn’t stand the silence for very long. He rounded to face Roman. “What’s in the boxes?!” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Please be explosives. Please be explosives. Please be explosives.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Gifts,” Roman said, not looking at his brother.  </p><p> </p><p><em> So POSSIBLY explosives. </em>Remus could work with that. </p><p> </p><p>A stiff quiet settled on the car for the remainder of the ride. Remus couldn’t tell if he was the only one suffocating in the silence. He hoped he wasn’t. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The rest of the night will make up for the car ride. I’ll make sure of it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>J a n u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Janus sat in the large comfortable chair in his living room after dinner, watching contentedly as his siblings and Virgil played on the ground. Virgil was currently helping twelve-year-old Vulcan assemble his new lego set on the coffee table. Nine-year-old Bellona and eight-year-old Mars were trying different variations of their new marble run sets. Two-year-old Vesta was curled up fast asleep nestled on the couch, cradling her new stuffed animal.</p><p> </p><p>Janus’ parents were big on mythology-based names. Go figure for two people named Bob and Martha. </p><p> </p><p>Dinner had gone better than Janus expected-- not that he expected anything but the best! Still… it had exceeded his expectations. Virgil had been polite, and had even laughed at a few of Janus’ jokes!</p><p> </p><p>Not that he needed Virgil’s validation. Not at all. </p><p> </p><p>He did still need to talk to Virgil though. Now would be the time, while the adults were occupied in the kitchen and the kids all seemed content…</p><p> </p><p>“Vulcan, my beloved brother, would you mind if I borrowed Virgil for just a moment?” Janus said in his best I’m-being-polite-but-you-don’t-actually-have-a-choice-in-the-matter Voice. </p><p> </p><p>Vulcan sighed dramatically, draping himself across the coffee table, unintentionally knocking off a few legos in the process. “Fiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnneeeee,” he moaned. </p><p> </p><p>Janus gestured for Virgil to follow him. Virgil shifted uncomfortably but didn’t argue. He probably just didn’t want to cause a scene.</p><p> </p><p>Janus led Virgil up to his bedroom and held the door open for him on the way in. Virgil didn’t acknowledge the gesture, except to force his hands deeper in his hoodie pockets. His headphones hung around his neck, prepared for the possibility of escaping to his loud emo music. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil gazed around the room, turning to get a full view. Janus supposed that made sense. He had changed the decor quite a bit since the last time Virgil was in here. </p><p> </p><p>When <em> was </em>the last time Virgil was in here?</p><p> </p><p><em> Doesn’t matter </em>, he reassured himself. </p><p> </p><p>Janus sat down on his bed. Best to make this appear like a casual conversation between friends. Not something potentially life-altering. He patted the bed beside him.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil crossed his arms and stayed standing So <em> that </em>was how it was going to be. </p><p> </p><p>Janus cleared his throat. “Virgil, I brought you here because I desired to talk to you in private--”</p><p> </p><p>“No duh,” Virgil cut in. Apparently, his agreeableness from dinner had dissipated the moment they were alone. </p><p> </p><p>Janus continued, “I have something… rather important to tell you.” He waited for some acknowledgment from Virgil. None came. </p><p> </p><p>Janus’ hands were sweating. He didn’t think this would be so hard. It was really no big deal. Plus, this was Virgil. He knew he’d be supportive. So why were the words stuck in his throat? </p><p> </p><p>After a few moments of tense silence, Virgil turned to walk out the door. “Look,” he said, “if you’ve got nothing to say, I’m just gonna--”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m non-binary,” Janus spat. The words flew loose without his permission, off into the world where he could no longer control them.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil swung back around to face Janus. “What was that?” he asked, as if he hadn’t quite heard properly.</p><p> </p><p>Janus drew a shaky breath. “I’m non-binary,” he said with more control. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil was on the bed beside him in an instant. They both stared straight forward at the snake terrarium across the room. After a moment, he whispered, almost too softly to hear, “Was that what you brought me up here to talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>Janus nodded. Virgil glanced at him, then awkwardly reached out and patted Janus on the back. He started to rub slow circles on Janus’ back, the same way Janus had for him so many times before. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you told me. I’ll support you no matter what,” he soothed. “Any adjustments I need to make on name or pronouns?” </p><p> </p><p>“I know you’ll support me. And, no, I actually prefer he/him,” Janus responded. “Are…” Janus hesitated before his next words. “Are we okay?” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Virgil questioned, slowly drawing his hand back now that he thought Janus was calming down. </p><p> </p><p>“Are we friends again?” Janus said, almost reverently.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Virgil sounded shocked. He stood up from the bed. “Why on earth would we be friends again?” </p><p> </p><p>Janus gazed up at him, just as shocked. “I-- I just thought--”</p><p> </p><p>“You thought what?” Virgil’s volume was rising rapidly. “You thought one moment of vulnerability would make me forgive you? You thought everything would just magically be okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Of course Janus hadn’t thought that. That would be ridiculous. </p><p> </p><p>That would have been naive.</p><p> </p><p>Oh God, Janus had been so naive. </p><p> </p><p>He stood up to face Virgil, trying to diffuse the situation. Virgil had started to pace the room. “I thought maybe we could start to heal,” Janus said quietly. He tried to keep his posture straight, despite his every instinct screaming to curl in on himself. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil whipped around. His breathing was getting faster. “You know what you did! You know what you did so you can’t possibly believe I’d just forgive you! I’M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE YOU!” he shouted. </p><p> </p><p>They’d definitely caught the attention of the adults by now. It was only a matter of time before someone came up to check on them. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil seemed to come to the same conclusion. He stood still, clearly trying to control his breathing.</p><p> </p><p>Janus recognized that breathing pattern. It was a breathing exercise Janus had taught him years ago. </p><p> </p><p>“I respect your identity, Janus.” Virgil’s voice was scarily quiet. “That doesn’t mean I respect you.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, he stepped toward the window and threw it open. He climbed out onto the tree that bridged their houses, despite the pouring rain. Janus watched as he struggled to open his own window from the outside, lugged his body through, shut the window, and thrust the curtains closed. Janus never did see the light in the room turn on. </p><p> </p><p>Janus sat down on his bed silently, not bothering to close the window even with the cold air and rain blowing in. He situated his elbows on his knees and his hands on his face. He absentmindedly stroked his fingers across the large birthmark on his face. Tears streamed down his face, even though he couldn’t remember exactly when he’d started crying. Did it count as crying if there were no heaving breaths? No frantically tumbling words and thoughts? Did it count when there was nothing but cold and silent tears?</p><p> </p><p>He stayed that way for the rest of the night, even when his parents came to check on him and closed the window. Even when Mars, Bellona, and Vulcan were loudly gossiping about him outside his door. Even when Vesta came in, sucking her thumb and still clutching her new stuffed animal. She hoisted herself up on the bed with some struggle. She made grabby hands at him and whined, but Janus ignored her.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, someone came and whisked Vesta away, and Janus was left all alone.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R e m u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Remus wasn’t doing a very good job of making the rest of the night better than the car ride. Every interaction was awkward and stilted, especially the ones between Roman and Dad. Dinner was a nightmare. </p><p> </p><p>Remus’ instinct to fill every silence with whatever came into his mind probably wasn’t helping… </p><p> </p><p>“Our organs do all that in the dark.” “WHY would you say that!”</p><p> </p><p>“Our bones are always wet.” “Remus, I swear God…”</p><p> </p><p>“Our teeth are the only bones we ever clean.” “I will hit you with my sword.” </p><p> </p><p>“People think our skeletons are inside us but really we’re inside them because we’re our brains and our brains are inside our skulls.”</p><p> </p><p>Roman stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom.” He stormed from the table.</p><p> </p><p>Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, slumping slightly. “Remus, would you please make an effort to filter your words just a bit?”</p><p> </p><p>Remus used his fork to move the food on his plate around in aimless circles. He was just trying to help. Anything was better than silence. </p><p> </p><p>He could feel Dad staring at him. “I’ll try,” he mumbled into his potatoes. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R o m a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman paced the bathroom. He needed a way out of this dinner. It was getting to the point he was grateful for Remus’ additions if they distracted from the unending awkward silence. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled out his phone. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What time are you going to pick me up? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Mom &lt;3: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It certainly can’t be that bad.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Just answer the question plz. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Mom &lt;3: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t know honey. I don’t even know if I’m going to be picking you up or if he’s going to bring you back over. Just ask your father.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince:  </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fine. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman sighed as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He splashed some water in his face, which put him in a slightly better place, then went to open up the door. The faster he found out when he could be back at home, the better. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R e m u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman came back into the room, but he didn’t sit down at the table. “Mom wants to know what time she should pick me up,” he said curtly. His voice was steady but he didn’t make eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, that’s a lie. The least he can do is make his disdain for us less obvious.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dad glanced uncomfortably out the window at the pouring rain. “Actually… I was thinking it might be best for you to stay the night.” </p><p> </p><p>Roman looked like someone had canceled Christmas. </p><p> </p><p>“There are flash flood warnings all through the area. I don’t want to put your mom in danger by making her drive, do you?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ah, playing the Mom card. Very smart.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman couldn’t argue with that. Still, he tried to protest. “Where would I even sleep?”</p><p> </p><p>“Remus had a bunk bed in his room.”</p><p> </p><p>It was true. Remus had insisted when they moved in, for exactly this occasion… Or for if Roman came to his senses and decided to move in with them. Just in case.</p><p> </p><p>Roman couldn’t seem to find any reason to disagree. They had extra toothbrushes under the sink. He could sleep in his clothes, or borrow some of Remus’. They were the same size after all. </p><p> </p><p>Remus was ecstatic. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>V i r g i l</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil dragged himself through his window. His sneakers squeaked against the frame, but he couldn’t hear them. Normally he would be terrified of slipping and falling to the ground below, but right now he was too preoccupied with his screaming thoughts. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He knows what he did, he knows what he did, the fucker knows what he did, how could he think, how could he even think that I would forgive him, that I even could forgive him, not that I would if I could I mean what the actual fuck how-- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil barely managed to get in the window and wrench the curtains closed before he collapsed into bed.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to control his breathing. He really did. He tried the damn breathing exercise, but Janus taught him that breathing exercise and he didn’t want to think about Janus. He <em> couldn't </em>think about Janus. </p><p> </p><p>Was his vision going black around the edges or was the room just too dark?</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t fucking breathe. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe he could use one of the breathing exercises Logan taught him instead.</p><p> </p><p><em> Logan </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Logan could help. Logan was so good at helping. Logan could make it better.</p><p> </p><p>Would Logan mind? Surely not. Logan had said before he’d always be there if Virgil needed it. Granted, he had probably just said so to be polite. But Virgil could deal with that later. He could apologize. Maybe he would ruin that friendship. He could just add it to the list. Didn’t matter.</p><p> </p><p>What had he been thinking about? </p><p> </p><p>Oh yeah, <em> Logan </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil groped around for his phone. Why was it never in the pocket that he thought it was? </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Virgil Storm: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I might be slightly freaking out </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Why was Logan taking so long to respond? Oh god, what if he was in the middle of something important and Virgil was disrupting him? What if he didn’t respond at all?</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Logan: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How can I be of assistance? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>L o g a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Logan’s family never really did anything for Christmas. His father usually ended up working the whole day, and it’s not as if Logan had any other family to celebrate with. </p><p> </p><p>Logan didn’t mind. He found the whole holiday season rather ridiculous anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Which was why he was sitting at his desk for most of the day, enjoying an enticing Agatha Christie novel. At this rate, he would get close to finishing it before bed. </p><p> </p><p>Logan may have been the world’s biggest proponent of healthy sleeping schedules, but perhaps he could push back the time he planned to retire just this once to finish the book. </p><p> </p><p>Logan was debating the pros and cons of staying up later when his phone buzzed from its place at the corner of the desk. He opted to finish the paragraph he was on before answering. He doubted there was anything urgent enough that it couldn’t wait the thirty seconds it took him to get to a stopping point. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Virgil Storm: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I might be slightly freaking out </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Logan responded the moment he read the text. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Logan Croft: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How can I be of assistance? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There was no immediate answer. Logan tried to pass the time by reading, but he found himself reading the same sentence over and over.</p><p> </p><p>He found himself reading the same sentence over and over.</p><p> </p><p>After five minutes passed, Logan decided it would be wise to text again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Logan Croft: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Virgil, would you please respond if you are able? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Another five minutes passed. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Logan Croft: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Virgil, I will admit to being slightly perturbed. Would you mind responding to ease my concerns? Any response will do.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Another five minutes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Logan Croft: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m going to call you.   </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Logan pushed the call button and waited for Virgil to pick up. </p><p> </p><p>He knew phone calls caused Virgil anxiety, but he didn’t see an adequate alternative. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil picked up during the fourth ring.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Logan could hear Virgil’s heavy breathing even through the phone. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello. I’m sorry to call; you had me worried. I can hang up now that I’ve confirmed you’re okay.” Logan didn’t wish to keep Virgil too long if the call added to his anxiety.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil didn’t respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Virgil? Are you there?”</p><p> </p><p>A beat passed. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to stay on the call?” Perhaps yes or no questions were the best course of action for the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>Okay. What did Logan know? Virgil had texted him admitting to “freaking out.” This was an infrequent occurrence, although Logan knew anxiety attacks were not out of the ordinary for Virgil. This most likely indicated that it was a worse attack than was common. This theory was supported by his lack of response to Logan’s texts and his difficulty talking while on the call. </p><p> </p><p>An attack this bad also likely stemmed from a trigger, rather than just general anxiety. However, identifying the trigger was not the top priority at the moment. The top priority was grounding Virgil. </p><p> </p><p>“Virgil, can you name five things you can see?.” Logan made an effort to keep his voice as steady and soothing as possible. </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t breathe.” </p><p> </p><p>Logan was compelled to point out the fact that if Virgil couldn’t breathe, he wouldn’t be able to talk. He concluded it would not be a helpful addition.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he said, “How about you breathe with me. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Slow and deep.”</p><p> </p><p>He waited several seconds, but received no confirmation that Virgil had heard him. He decided to begin the exercise nonetheless: “Breathe in: one, two, three, four. Hold: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Breathe out: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” </p><p> </p><p>Logan repeated the exercise several more times but heard nothing from Virgil. Finally, he asked, “Virgil? Is breathing getting any easier?”</p><p> </p><p>No response.</p><p> </p><p>“Virgil?”</p><p> </p><p>Still no response. Logan checked his phone to make sure nothing had gone amiss with the call. </p><p> </p><p>“Virge?” Logan could feel his heart rate rising. </p><p> </p><p>The call went dead. </p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>P a t t o n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p> Patton was having an amazing day. </p><p> </p><p>He loved Christmas, and he loved his moms. He loved sitting down with them for a nice meal. He loved their company and their conversation and the lovely music playing in the background and the good food. He loved it all. </p><p> </p><p>Plus, his 16th birthday was rapidly approaching! On January 15th-- only a few weeks away-- he would know how long he had to wait for his soulmate! His life would be so much better with someone to share it with! It would be so much better just knowing for sure that he was going to have someone to share it with! Just look at his moms! They loved each other and they were so happy together!</p><p> </p><p>He knew there was no way to tell yet, but he hoped <em> so </em>badly that his connection would be Romantic. He wanted the same type of love that his moms had. He wanted a happily ever after, just like Roman was always talking about.</p><p> </p><p>He was brought out of his pleasant thoughts by Ma coughing not-so-subtly at Mom. He looked up from his casserole to find them sharing a meaningful look.</p><p> </p><p>After a few tense seconds of their staring contest, Mom evidently lost. She cleared her throat. </p><p> </p><p>“Patty-cake,” she started.</p><p> </p><p>Patton usually loved the nickname Patty-cake. Nicknames were his jam! But the tone of Mom’s voice set him on edge.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up Mom?” The cheer in his voice was clearly faked.</p><p> </p><p>Mom hesitated. “Your Ma and I have something to tell you. We hope it doesn’t change the way you think about us.” She stopped and shot Ma a look that seemed to mean <em> it’s your turn </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Ma took up the conversation, her voice steady. “I know you think of your Mom and I as romantic soulmates. We thought we were too, but…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Where-- where are they going with this? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Mom slowly took up the mantle of talking once again. “But, we’ve come to realize that we are actually platonic soulmates.”</p><p> </p><p>The statement hung over the table. Patton swore the air felt heavier around him. A new song started to play, but Patton didn’t register it at all. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They’re not romantic soulmates. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He believed it. He didn’t ask if this was some sort of sick prank. He knew they wouldn’t have brought it up with him unless they were <em> absolutely </em>sure. </p><p> </p><p>Patton stared off into space as his moms stared at him with concern. Then he whispered, so quietly his moms had to lean in to hear, “Are you getting a divorce?”</p><p> </p><p>Ma jumped to the rescue. “Oh, honey! No, no. We’re not getting a divorce. We’re still soulmates after all! We still love each other in our own way! And we love you very much!” </p><p> </p><p>Mom jumped in as well. “The only change is that your Ma is going to be moving into the guest room. We’re still best friends! Nothing is going to change for you!”</p><p> </p><p>But it was going to change for Patton. He had based his whole view of relationships and soulmates on his mothers. Then he’d watched it crash and burn.  </p><p> </p><p>Mom scooted her chair closer to Patton and tried to put her arm around him. </p><p> </p><p>Without thinking Patton jerked away. Both his moms stared at him with shock. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. He was on the verge of tears. “I just… I just need a minute to process. May I be excused please?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, baby,” Mom soothed. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” Patton stood up from the table, neglecting to take care of his dirty dishes, and walked straight up the stairs to his room.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>L o g a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Logan tried to control his breathing. He would be no help to Virgil if he drove himself into an attack. </p><p> </p><p>He had to assess his options.</p><p> </p><p>Virgil had a history of making objectively dumb decisions in the midst of panic. Logan was going to prevent anything bad from happening through any means he could.</p><p> </p><p>Option one: texting Virgil.</p><p> </p><p>He had already tried that after the call disconnected. There had been no response. </p><p> </p><p>Option two: calling again.</p><p> </p><p>He had already tried that too. After the fifth ring, it had gone to voicemail.</p><p> </p><p>Option three: contacting someone who could help Virgil. This option had several variants.</p><p> </p><p>He could contact Mr. and/or Mrs. Storm. He had both of their phone numbers saved in his phone. The issue with this option was that Logan was aware of Virgil’s hesitance to share his ongoing struggle with anxiety with his parents. Furthermore, it could be their actions or words that brought on this attack. He did not want to risk making the situation worse. </p><p> </p><p>He could contact Janus Xanders. Janus lived directly next door to Virgil. Logan knew for a fact that he could make it to Virgil’s bedroom (which was presumably Virgil’s location) without alerting either of their families. A year ago, this option would likely have been ideal. However, Logan was deterred by the current relationship status of Virgil and Janus. He wasn’t sure if Janus would be willing to help. Even if he was, Logan doubted he would be a calming presence. </p><p> </p><p>That left contacting the authorities.</p><p> </p><p>That was the last resort. </p><p> </p><p>Logan tried calling Virgil one last time. Voicemail.</p><p> </p><p>There was one other thing Logan could try. </p><p> </p><p>Time to take matters into his own hands. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>V i r g i l</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil was curled up in his bed, under every blanket he had been able to find in his panicked haze. At some point he’d wrestled his sneakers off; they laid forgotten beside his bed. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil tried to focus on his breathing. It was getting easier. Slightly. </p><p> </p><p>Every time he thought about Janus he started to panic more. And it was hard not to think about Janus.</p><p> </p><p>Not after what he did. Not after he thought coming out would fix things. </p><p> </p><p>How dare he use something as sacred as coming out to try to manipulate Virgil?</p><p> </p><p>How fucking dare he. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil could feel his breath getting faster. </p><p> </p><p>It was hard not to think about Janus when he could hear his parents making their way back into the house. They came from the Xanders house. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They came from Janus’ house, they came from Janus’ house, they came from Janus’ house.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His breath got faster still. </p><p> </p><p>It was hard not to think about Janus when he was so close. One house over. One tree bridging their windows. </p><p> </p><p>Oh god, what if he tried to come and confront Virgil? What if he knocked on his window right now?</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t deal with that he couldn’t deal with that he couldn’t deal with that. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Knock knock knock.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil physically jumped. </p><p> </p><p>There was someone at the window. </p><p> </p><p>What if it was no one and Virgil was just imagining things like Remus sometimes did?</p><p> </p><p>What if it was Janus?</p><p> </p><p>Virgil dragged himself out of bed and toward the window. He didn’t want to answer the window. But he had to know. He had to know if he was going crazy or what on earth Janus could possibly have to say. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil twisted back the curtains.</p><p> </p><p>To his shock, Janus wasn’t the one crouching on the limb of the tree. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil threw open the window. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Virgil. I’m glad to see you’re all right. Would you mind allowing me in? I’m afraid it’s rather cold out here.” </p><p> </p><p>There, soaking wet and shivering on the tree branch, was Logan. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R o m a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Roman, if you wouldn’t mind me asking, do you have any ideas as to what movies Virgil finds calming? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m afraid I’m rather lacking in the movie department, and you are an expert from what I understand.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Um, I’m afraid I’m not quite sure.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He seems like a The Nightmare Before Christmas type of guy to me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Do you know where I could access this movie? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ummmmm I’m pretty sure it’s on DisneyPlus.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One sec.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Virgil has shown me that he has said app on his phone.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, I just checked, it’s on there.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thank you, Roman. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why’d you need me to give you a suggestion anyway??? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Couldn’t you have just asked Virgil? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Virgil is struggling with communication and decision-making at the moment. I thought it best to take some of that pressure off of him.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Um, I guess that makes sense… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Calculator Watch: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yes.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thank you again, Roman. Merry Christmas.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Roman Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Merry Xmas. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R e m u s</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Remus!” Dad yelled from the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s up, Pops?” Remus responded. </p><p> </p><p>“Why exactly does the nativity scene have a dick where baby Jesus should be?”  Dad was clearly doing his best to keep his voice steady. Roman looked up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bottom bunk, dutifully texting on his phone. </p><p> </p><p>Remus giggled from where sat, his feet dangling off of the top bunk. “Which one are you talking about?” He was honestly surprised Dad had taken this long to notice.</p><p> </p><p>He could hear his dad running around the apartment to check the rest of the nativity scenes. Eventually, he appeared at the bedroom door. </p><p> </p><p>“Where did you even get this many fake dicks?! And where are the baby Jesuses?!” He was doing a good job hiding the amusement in his voice, but Remus could tell it was there.</p><p> </p><p>Remus grinned manically. “Wouldn’t you like to know!” </p><p> </p><p>“Just come clean these up already!” Dad playfully shouted, giving up on being angry. He chucked. Even Roman had to hide a small smile. </p><p> </p><p>Remus couldn’t help but be pleased with himself as he jumped from the top bunk. At least <em> something </em>he’d done had managed to break the ice between them all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>L o g a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Logan was positioned comfortably on Virgil’s bed. Virgil was curled up on the other side of the bed. They didn’t touch. Logan had asked if physical contact was okay, and Virgil had shaken his head. Logan was going to respect that.</p><p> </p><p>They were watching <em>The Nightmare Before Christmas</em> on Virgil’s phone. Logan had figured a healthy distraction would be the best course of action. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil hadn’t looked well when he had opened the window. His hair was a mess and his makeup dramatically smeared. Nevertheless, Logan’s presence at the window had been enough to temporarily snap him from his stupor. He had ushered Logan in-- “What the hell are you doing here?! Get in already!” He had acquired towels from the bathroom cabinet-- “Dry yourself off! I don’t want you to catch hypothermia, you idiot!” </p><p> </p><p>Once Logan had dried himself off a bit, Virgil had required an explanation.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you even get here? Doesn’t your dad fave the car?”</p><p> </p><p>“My father does indeed have the car. I walked.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s like a half-hour walk, Lo! Why would you ever do that?!”</p><p> </p><p>“I was worried about you.” Logan thought that much was obvious. </p><p> </p><p>An uninterpretable look had crossed Virgil’s face. He stopped talking after that, just using hand and head motions to get across what he needed to. </p><p> </p><p>Logan couldn’t say he understood his friend’s distress, but he was going to help Virgil if it killed him.</p><p> </p><p>Now, an hour later, Virgil was immersed in the movie. Logan found himself enjoying it too, even if it wasn’t enough to fully distract him from the gravity of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>He had snuck out. He had actually snuck out of his father’s house. He’d actually done it. </p><p> </p><p>If his dad found out…</p><p> </p><p>He was going to be in so much trouble. </p><p> </p><p>But for now, he had to focus on making sure Virgil was okay. It was his duty. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>P a t t o n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Patton closed the door of his room behind him and fell on his bed.</p><p> </p><p>He sat like that for a few minutes. Just curled up on his bed, listening to the faint music still echoing up from downstairs.  </p><p> </p><p>At some point, he rose to try to find a packer. For some reason, the whole ordeal was making him feel extra dysphoric, and he just needed the extra boost of comfort that came with packing. </p><p> </p><p>After a few seconds of rustling around in drawers, he remembered that he’d loaned all his packers to Remus. Remus had practically begged for them, and double pinky swore he would give them back unharmed. Patton didn’t want to admit it… but he had been curious what Remus intended to do with them. So, he’d handed them over, given that Remus also promised to send him pictures of whatever shenanigans he got into. </p><p> </p><p>Speak of the devil, Patton’s phone buzzed from his bed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Remus says he got permission to steal your packers. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I highly doubt that’s true and I am so so sorry! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Actually… I may have given him permission…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can’t believe I have you to blame for this mess!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What did he do??? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I get the feeling you’re gonna find out soon enough… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Patton decided not to mention how proud he was that Roman had apparently decided to join Remus for Christmas. Instead, he just tilted his head and wondered what in the world Remus could have done with the--</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Buzz buzz. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Stinky Rat Child: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> i replaced all the baby christses with dicks!!!!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> *Images attached* </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Patton couldn’t help but smile just a bit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Isn't that kind of disrespectful of the holiday… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Stinky Rat Child: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> that’s what my pops said!!!!!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> he made me take all of them down :(((((((((( </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> but he hasn’t figured out where the baby jesuseseses are yet!!!!!!!!!!!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Patton smiled a bit wider. Remus may be crude, but he really wasn't that bad once you got to know him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Where ARE the Baby Jesuses?? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Stinky Rat Child: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> that’s my little secret! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> don’t worry, i’ll get the packers back to you the next time i see you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> and i’ll do it DISCREETLY, per roman’s request </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> apparently he thinks handing people clear Ziploc bags full of dicks is ‘inappropriate’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He and Remus continued to text long into the night, even though Remus had to leave a few times to deal with something or other with Roman. Both were oblivious to the conversations being had about them by concerned parents as they dwelled in their world of puns, memes, and jokes. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it wasn’t that bad of a Christmas after all. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>R o m a n</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Roman was not happy to have to stay the night at his dad’s apartment. </p><p> </p><p>Not happy didn’t even begin to cover it. </p><p> </p><p>Plus, he’d ended up in a green pair of Remus’ pajamas, which Dad had insisted were clean, but Roman didn’t know if he quite believed that judging by the look on Remus’ face when Dad said it. </p><p> </p><p>Still, he was stuck here now. He laid on the bottom bunk in the dark, trying his best to fall asleep. </p><p> </p><p>Remus was doing his best to thwart his attempts. He was just texting, but his reactions were loud and graphic. </p><p> </p><p>After the fifth time Remus interrupted his drifting off with a loud and abrupt laugh, Roman <em> had </em> to say something. Even if it meant engaging in a conversation with <em> Remus </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you just shut up?!” He kicked the mattress above him. He felt sudden nostalgia for the same situation from when they were much younger. Remus <em> had </em>always insisted on the top bunk, making it much easier to kick his mattress. </p><p> </p><p>In a split second, Remus was hanging dramatically over the edge of the bed, staring at Roman with wide eyes. “What’s in the other box?” he asked abruptly.</p><p> </p><p>Remus was referring to the neatly wrapped Christmas present he’d brought with him. Dad and he had exchanged gifts soon after they got to the apartment. Roman had given Dad a nice mug-- he couldn’t exactly get him nothing, even if his dad was a douche. A prince would treat everyone with equal courtesy. His dad had given him a Disney t-shirt. </p><p> </p><p>But Roman had neglected to give Remus his gift thus far. He didn’t know why… it just hadn’t felt like the right moment. </p><p> </p><p>He guessed now would be the moment. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed and swung his legs off the bed. He got up, dodging Remus’ swinging upper body, and grabbed the gift off of where he’d set it on the messy desk. He turned and held it out to Remus. </p><p> </p><p>Remus performed some needlessly elaborate moves to work his way down from his position hanging over the bed. </p><p> </p><p>Roman couldn’t help but notice the old scars on his arms as the twisting, turning, and flipping made Remus’ sleeves fall to and from his elbows. </p><p> </p><p>Roman had been a fool to forget about that earlier that day. A prince couldn’t be so ignorant. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, Remus was standing on solid ground. He eagerly snatched the package and ripped it open. Inside, was a green and grey sweater that bore a striking resemblance to the one Roman was wearing earlier that day. </p><p> </p><p>Remus squealed and immediately pulled it over his pajamas. He struck a pose, hands on his hips. “How do I look?!”</p><p> </p><p>Roman couldn’t help but smile fondly. He just liked having his gift appreciated-- that was all. Nothing more. </p><p> </p><p>He summoned up some scorn to say, “You look fine. Will you let me sleep now?”</p><p> </p><p>Remus was grinning. He nodded vigorously and bounced back to the top bunk. Keyword <em> bounced </em>. Apparently, he had a personal vendetta against using the ladder like any normal person would </p><p> </p><p>He enthusiastically dug something out from under the covers and launched it at Roman. Roman barely caught the fairly large package crudely wrapped in newspaper as it hurdled toward his face. </p><p> </p><p>Inside was a painting Roman had honestly forgotten about. It was very inexpertly painted by the boys when they were around eight and in the midst of their very intense <em> Liv and Maddie </em> phase. </p><p> </p><p>They painted themselves holding hands standing on a grassy hill. Roman was holding a microphone and Remus was holding what was meant to be his pet rat at the time, Sir Cheezeball. The white frame was covered in stickers that had long since mostly peeled off. </p><p> </p><p>Written on the painting in black sharpie, in the best handwriting they could muster, was “BROTHERS BY CHANCE, FRIENDS BY CHOICE.” </p><p> </p><p>Roman had honestly believed this had been lost in the move after their parent’s divorce. Had Remus had it this whole time?</p><p> </p><p>Neither boy said anything after that. Remus went back to texting. Roman set the painting delicately on the desk and climbed back onto the bottom bunk. </p><p> </p><p>He fell asleep without too much trouble this time around. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>V i r g i l</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>By the time <em> The Nightmare Before Christmas </em> had ended, Virgil had calmed down slightly. It wasn’t just the movie. It was Logan. It was the fact that Logan had cared enough to come through the pouring rain just for him.</p><p> </p><p>Logan’s entertaining commentary on the inconsistencies in the internal logic of the film also didn’t do any harm…</p><p> </p><p>At some point, his parents had come in to check on him. They had backed off the moment they saw Logan. They’d undoubtedly have questions later, such as, <em> why was there a soaking wet teenage boy on your bed and how did he get here, </em>but he could deal with that later, and he didn’t think they’d be angry or anything. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil should feel guilty that he’d made Logan worry enough to come. But for now, he really needed to just enjoy the warm blankets and the comforting presence of his friend. </p><p> </p><p>Logan, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well. Virgil could see him pale as he glanced out the window and then checked something on his phone. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong, L?” Virgil’s voice was still scratchy from crying. </p><p> </p><p>Logan clearly hadn’t expected Virgil to say anything. That was fair-- he had barely said a word since Logan got here. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing you need to be concerned about, Virgil.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, that’s bullshit.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Virgil scooted slightly closer to Logan on the bed to see what Logan was looking at. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Flash Flood Warning: Travel Across Flooded Areas Highly Inadvisable.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Oh </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>Oh god, why hadn’t Virgil thought about that? <em> Of course </em> Logan was worried about getting home. If his father found out he’d snuck out he would be <em> so </em>screwed. The rain had only gotten worse since Logan had gotten here, pounding against every unprotected surface. </p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be fine, Virgil. Would it be possible for me to stay the night?” Logan was clearly making an effort to keep his voice steady despite his shaking hands and the fear in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil shifted to face Logan entirely. “Of course, Lo. You can have the bed-- we have an air mattress around here somewhere. I can help you explain the situation to your dad tomorrow. I’ll have to let my parents know, but they won’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Logan nodded. “I’ll text my father so he won’t freak out when he gets home.”</p><p> </p><p>So Logan had given up on not getting caught. </p><p> </p><p>“I can help you write the text if you want?” It <em> was </em>his fault after all. Jesus, why was he so stupid. </p><p> </p><p> “Thank you for the offer, Virgil.”</p><p> </p><p>That was a subtle way of saying he’d handle it without Virgil’s help. </p><p> </p><p>That was justified. Virgil was the only reason Logan was in this mess.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe it was Janus’ fault. That thought didn’t make him feel any better about it. </p><p> </p><p>Half an hour later, Virgil was curled up in his bed, with Logan on the air mattress. Logan had insisted Virgil keep the bed. He’d also refused to borrow any pajamas, even though his clothes were still slightly damp and had to be uncomfortable to sleep in. He’d at least taken off his tie. </p><p> </p><p>Virgil had heard Logan’s text tone go off, meaning his dad had responded. He was too afraid to ask what his reaction had been. Plus, he got the feeling Logan wouldn’t want to talk about it.</p><p> </p><p>They were quiet, but neither would fall asleep for a long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>aaaaaaaaah okay i have a ton to say about this chapter but im gonna try to keep this short.</p><p>i really love all these dorks, but please note that i don't always AGREE with the stuff they do. they all have fucked up world views and they have a lot to learn. </p><p>i hesitated to make logan an atheist bc i resent the idea that logic and religion cannot coincide. however, i do think it fits best with his character and the story im trying to tell. </p><p>im gonna update the tags when i get the chance (aka have the motivation). </p><p>comments and kudos are appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Patton not handling his emotions? In my fic? It's more likely than you think.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patton had always believed his moms were romantic soulmates. Turns out they're not. But it's fine! Absolutely completely 100% fine. Patton has a job to do anyway.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They can’t just do this to you! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s fine, kiddo </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Forget I brought it up </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You should challenge them to a duel! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m not sure how well that would go down… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fine. No duel. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But they’re making a mistake and you HAVE to tell them!! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can’t think of a way to do that without seeming super rude tho </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And??? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Patton Hart: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well.. being rude isn’t very princely, don’t ya think? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> Disney Prince: </em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That rule applies when you’re dealing with fellow heroes or civilians! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Not when you’re dealing with villains! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Patton slammed his phone on the table, drawing a few looks from the other people in the school library. Patton blushed and whispered a hushed “<em> sorry </em>.” He stared at his phone for a second. This discussion with Roman could wait. He had a job to do. </p><p> </p><p>Patton had been a member of the school’s Reading Buddies program for as long as it had existed. The program let older students read with younger students, for an hour every Monday after school. He’d been one of the kids enrolled in it back in elementary school, and when he got to middle school he immediately joined as a tutor. When the teacher who had run it, Mx. Banks retired last year, he had become the sole person keeping it afloat. The school said no club could run without a teacher in charge. So, Patton had begged every teacher in the school until he got one to agree. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Leroy didn’t exactly <em> want  </em>the job. However… teachers got paid slightly extra for running clubs, and Patton was so goddamn desperate that he’d caved. Still, he was almost never around. A few times the principal had dropped in to make sure they had adult supervision, Patton had lied and said that Mr. Leroy was just in the bathroom-- he’d be back any minute!</p><p> </p><p>Patton wasn’t one to lie… but he had to keep this club open, okay? He loved these kids. And it wasn’t really lying! Mr. Leroy could be in the bathroom for all he knew! Lying was wrong. This was different. This was for a good cause. </p><p> </p><p>Patton had done such a good job recruiting tutors that he rarely needed to participate as a tutor himself anymore. Sure, some of his tutors were only there because it was an easy way to get volunteer hours and looked good on college applications, but some of them really loved the kids.</p><p> </p><p>So, Patton made his rounds, making sure that everyone was staying on task and that his tutors weren’t getting overwhelmed. Every once and a while he had to jump in: “Ladybug, how about you pick a different book today? I know you have <em> Hop on Pop  </em>memorized!” “Remember what I said about putting your feet on the table, Grasshopper?”</p><p> </p><p>Patton may or may not have given all of the kids bug-themed nicknames. What?? It was cute!</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, their hour ended, and Patton had to say goodbye to his little friends. He helped them tug on their backpacks (he noticed that Bumblebee had gotten a new <em> Paw Patrol  </em>themed bag, and made sure to compliment them on it). He thanked his volunteers (and made sure the kids thanked them too), and then ushered everyone outside to be picked up.</p><p> </p><p>After he made sure every little kid had been picked up by their guardians (he had a list of how each kid usually got home, just to make sure), he started his way down the street to where Mom usually parked. He was sort of dreading getting to the car… he wasn’t as eager to see his Mom as he usually was. Not with the huge bombshell that his mothers were no longer in a romantic relationship having been revealed just a few weeks ago.  </p><p> </p><p>Luckily for him, when he was halfway to the car, something clicked in his brain.</p><p> </p><p>“I left my lunchbox in the Library.”</p><p> </p><p>He shouldn’t be eager to get a few extra minutes away from his Mom. And he wasn’t! But… he couldn’t very well leave his lunchbox there overnight! There were leftover scraps from lunch in it and he wouldn’t want the school to get ants!</p><p> </p><p>Patton turned back to the school.</p><p> </p><p>He may have taken more time than was strictly necessary to get there, but eventually, he made it to the Atrium doors. Problem: the doors were locked and the office had already closed for the day.</p><p> </p><p>Patton pressed his face up against the glass door, squinting to see if there was anyone in the Atrium who could let him in. And, wouldn’t you know it, someone was reading at a desk in the corner! He knocked and gave his goofiest grin. “Hey, would ya mind letting me in?” he enunciated through the glass.</p><p> </p><p>Who knows if the person indoors was able to hear him, but they clearly got the message. They made their way to the door, and as they got closer, Patton recognized them. There was only one student at the school with a posture that good!</p><p> </p><p>The person opened the door, and Patton said cheerily, “Thank you, Logan!”</p><p> </p><p>Logan gave a forced smile back. “But of course, Patton.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>none of the reading buddies stuff is based on real life experience that would be absolutely ridiculous. </p><p>i promise the next chapter will have actual plot!!! Lo and Pat are going to have one hell of a chat! </p><p>thx for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Infinitesimal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>lo and pat chat (haha that rhymes)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: cursing, strained family dynamics </p><p>Me: *has an extremely clear vision for what I want this chapter to look like*<br/>Also me: *spends weeks not writing it*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan looked up from his astronomy book at the sudden noise. Technically he was supposed to be at Astronomy club right now, so he figured reading the book was the least he could do. </p><p>Someone was knocking on the Atrium doors, their face pushed up against the glass. It looked as if they were trying to say something, but Logan couldn’t hear anything through the door. Still, their knocking indicated they desired to be let in.</p><p>Logan couldn’t recognize the person at this distance, but he highly doubted someone with malicious intent would be so forward. Most likely a student had forgotten something and returned to get it. He determined to get closer to confirm his theory. He wasn’t sure what his course of action would be if he didn’t recognize the student.</p><p>Fortunately, he very quickly recognized who was standing outside as he drew near. It was Patton Hart. Pronouns: he/him. Sophomore. This was his second year attending the school. He was in a friend group that overlapped with Virgil’s, and therefore his own, he supposed. </p><p>He opened the door.</p><p>“Thank you, Logan!”</p><p>Logan gave a forced smile back. “But of course, Patton.”</p><p>Logan held open the door as Patton walked in. Perhaps “walk” wasn’t the most accurate word. Patton’s action was more akin to skipping. </p><p>“Whatcha doin here so late?” Patton asked.</p><p>Logan hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He had thought ahead for teachers questioning his presence of course, but he wasn’t sure the same excuse would be appropriate for Patton. </p><p>Maybe the truth would suffice. </p><p>“I am supposed to be at the Astronomy Club.” </p><p>“Yeah? I could’ve sworn that wasn’t happening right now… isn’t Mrs. Park on maternity leave?”</p><p>“That is accurate. However, how shall I put this… I wanted slightly more time away from home, so I... neglected to inform my father that the club was on hiatus.”</p><p>Patton’s eyes suddenly grew wide. “So you lied?”</p><p>Logan settled back down at his table in the back of the Atrium. “A lie of omission, yes. It was a reasonable way to get more time away from my father's house.”</p><p>Patton looked conflicted, which was odd considering what little Logan knew about him. From Virgil’s reports, he had a strict, almost <em> insufferable </em>moral code. (Patton was the one to encourage Virgil to contact his Biology teacher when she inputted the wrong grade, causing his grade to rise.)</p><p>Finally, Patton spoke up. “Why do you want to be away from your house?”</p><p>Logan didn’t want to betray Virgil’s privacy, so he spoke as vaguely as possible while still portraying the situation accurately, keeping his eyes locked on the Astronomy book in front of him. “Several weeks ago, I left my father’s house without permission in order to comfort a friend.” He glanced up to see if Patton was still paying attention. Surprisingly, he had settled himself in the chair across from Logan. He supposed that was as good a sign as any to continue. “Since then, my father has, in Virgil’s words, “grounded” me. Any time not spent at school is to be spent in the living room where my father can keep an eye on me. Although I am not a particularly social person, I can’t claim to enjoy the confinement, nor the near constant company of my father.”</p><p>Had he said too much? Social cues were not his strong point. </p><p>Patton tilted his head. “So… you’re in trouble because you tried to help a friend? And now… now you have to lie to get out of the house?”</p><p>Virgil’s family had a magnet on the side of their fridge outlining proper conversation techniques. One of the guidelines was that the listener should paraphrase the speaker’s points to check for understanding. Patton was following the structure. Logan could work with that. </p><p>“Yes, your paraphrasing is accurate.”</p><p>“I guess… I guess that makes sense.”</p><p>The two stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. </p><p>Patton rose from his chair. Logan was going to return to his reading, when--</p><p>“I left my lunchbox in the library. Do ya wanna come with me to get it?” </p><p>Now, realistically, Logan had no reason to go with Patton. Later, he would attribute it to boredom with the chapter of his Astronomy book. They had already covered the topic in Astronomy Club after all. But there might have been something more there. He could have just switched chapters after all. Maybe, just maybe, nothing more than a hypothesis, Logan might have enjoyed Patton’s company. Don’t get him wrong! He was perfectly satisfied with his social standing. He had Virgil. Even before that, he had been perfectly content with just his studies. </p><p>But… well… what was wrong with potentially cultivating another friendship?</p><p>Another <em> acquaintance </em>. </p><p>Logan went with Patton. </p><p>The walk to the library was silent. From Logan’s limited impression of Patton, he thought he’d be talkative. What was the point of inviting Logan if no discussion was to take place? Was it Logan’s turn to talk? He wasn’t normally uncomfortable in silence, but here it was disconcerting. </p><p>The boys started up the stairs (the library was on the second floor). “You appeared fairly interested in my standing with my father. May I inquire as to why?”</p><p>That had to be a good way to start, right? He’d showed he’d been paying attention before, and expressed interest in Patton’s interests. </p><p>Patton raised his eyebrows. “Oh, um…” He shrunk into himself just a bit as they reached the top of the stairs.</p><p>Crap. Maybe it hadn’t been as good of a topic as he’d thought. Logan was trying to think of something else to say when--</p><p>“Just because, well, I guess families are on my mind at the moment.”</p><p> They entered the library. Patton started looking around for where he could have left his lunchbox, but Logan simply stood near the door. </p><p>The way Patton had said that… it had been so <em> soft </em>. That was the best way Logan could think of to describe it. Logan had to know more. For scientific purposes, of course. He wanted to know what could put such emotion into someone’s voice. It was curiosity, not care. </p><p><em> Acquaintances </em>.</p><p>“Why are families on your mind?”</p><p>Patton finally found his lunchbox, shoved under a table in the corner. He turned to face Logan. He looked tired. And then suddenly, he broke into tears.</p><p>Fuck. </p><p>Logan froze. He just… froze. He didn’t know how to react to this. Yeah, he’d helped handle Virgil’s meltdown just a few weeks ago, but that was because it was <em> Virgil </em>. He knew Virgil. He knew how to help. He’d had time to think through every situation as he’d trekked to his house. He didn’t have any of that here. All he had was a boy he barely knew crying before him. </p><p>Logan inched closer to Patton. Okay, what should he do? Something to show Patton had support, right? What would show that?</p><p>Currently, Patton was just crying, curled into himself and hiccuping, standing in the corner of the room. <em> Standing </em>. Logan could guide him to a chair. That was a reasonable first step. </p><p>Logan made his way over to Patton and gently took the lunchbox out of his hands. He slipped his own hands into Patton’s where the lunchbox had been, and led him to the closest chair, using his foot to pull it out. After Patton was seated, he moved to the other side of the table and took a seat himself. </p><p>Patton’s tears weren’t exactly slowing down, but he seemed to have become more aware at least. “Sorry,” he sniffled.</p><p>“It’s… it’s quite alright, Patton.” Logan cleared his throat. “Um, would you like to talk about it?”</p><p>Patton’s glasses were fogging up. Logan resisted the urge to take them off his face and clean them for him. </p><p>“It’s just, it’s just my moms. They’re supposed to be in love, but apparently they’re not.”</p><p>“Why are they supposed to be in love?” </p><p>“Because they’re <em> soulmates </em>.” Patton buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Patton. If you need to talk about something, I’m happy to ‘lend an ear,’ as they say.” Logan didn’t want to shut Patton down, and communication was healthy. </p><p>“Really?” Patton looked up at Logan with teary eyes. </p><p>“Of course.” </p><p>“Well then…” Patton re-situated himself in the chair. </p><p>Logan resisted the urge to make a joke about not even being able to sit straight. Clearly, he’d been spending too much time with Virgil. </p><p>Patton continued. “My moms told me that they’re not romantic soulmates anymore.” A pause. “Actually, no, that’s not right. They said they were <em> never </em> romantic soulmates. But how can that be?! They said they <em> loved </em> each other. Why would they lie like that?! They had a kid together for goodness sake!” </p><p>Logan tilted his head. “Are you sure they had malicious intent?”</p><p>“No! I mean, maybe? I don’t know!” Patton’s words were getting faster. “But they’re not even being consistent! Like, they don’t wear their rings anymore, but they haven’t gotten rid of them. They haven’t taken down their wedding photos, and they’re not getting a divorce, but my Ma moved into the guest room! It’s like they can’t make up their minds. And they say they love me the same way, but how can they?! If they don’t love each other the same way?!”</p><p>“Fear that their parents don’t love them in the same way is common among children whose parents have separated. You’re not alone in that.”</p><p>“They say they still love each other. They say they’re still 'best friends.' But then why not just stay soulmates! <em> Romantic </em>soulmates I mean. They always used to talk about how one day love would find me just like it did them and how there would always have to be some work to make it work so why can’t they work! Why can’t they make it work!” </p><p>Logan nodded sagely. He was starting to get a better idea of the situation. </p><p>“And get this--” Patton leaned dramatically across the table. Logan sprung back slightly in surprise. “They told me on Christmas! Christmas, Logan! Who even does that?” </p><p>Logan felt slightly guilty. When he had been comforting Virgil on Christmas, Patton must have been suffering too. He wished he could have helped them both. But would he have, if he had known about Patton? He was far closer with Virgil, after all. Would he have had the time and resources to help them both?</p><p>“And Roman isn’t helping at all.”  </p><p>Logan focused back on the conversation. Now was not the time for those contemplations. “Roman Prince?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s really just making things worse.” Patton seemed to realize the implications of his statement. “I mean, Roman is the best! The absolute best! He’s amazing! It’s just…” Patton hesitated. “He sees everything like the plot of a movie. He thinks they’re some evil villains for messing with me like this. But they’re not villains! I mean, I don’t think they are…”</p><p>“Roman’s view on the matter does seem rather… extreme.”</p><p>Patton gave a half-hearted chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.” He was no longer crying, but tears were still drying on his face. “I just… I don’t really know what to do. I don’t really need to do anything, I guess. I just… I don’t know how to feel.” </p><p>They sat in silence for a few moments. It was more comfortable this time. It was warm. </p><p>Logan had a theory, but he wanted to be sure. “Are you yet sixteen, Patton?” he inquired. He couldn’t be sure, due to the copious amount of brightly colored bracelets adorning Patton’s wrists. </p><p>Patton sniffled. “N- no. Why?”</p><p>“If I may ask, when is your sixteenth birthday?” </p><p>“January 15th.”</p><p>That was only ten days away. </p><p>That explained quite a bit.</p><p>“So, you’re distressed because you based your view of relationships, soulmates in particular, on your parents. Now, that worldview has been disrupted. You have to relearn the way you view the world, with very little support. The people you normally would look to for support are the reason for the disruption, after all. You mentioned Roman Prince is not being helpful either. This is bound to be unpleasant for anyone. But, because your sixteenth birthday is so close, you also feel you have a pressuring time limit to figure everything out. You fear if you don’t figure things out, you won't be able to properly navigate your relationship with your own soulmate. Correct?”</p><p>Patton stared at him open-mouthed. Had Logan done something wrong? The listener is supposed to paraphrase, correct? True, he had added some of his own interpretation, but it had seemed logical. </p><p>After a few seconds of staring at each other, Logan awkwardly cleared his throat. “Is everything quite alright, Patton?” </p><p>Patton finally seemed to shake from his stupor. “I-- how did you-- I hadn’t even realized--”</p><p>“Realized what, Patton?”</p><p>“That-- that the reason I’m so upset-- the thing you said about basing my worldview on them, and the pressure to figure everything out! That’s exactly how I feel! And I didn’t even realize!”</p><p>Patton seemed to glow. He was still upset, but clearly understanding the root of the issue had helped him significantly. Logan couldn’t help but feel a little proud… he liked seeing Patton smile. He liked being the reason Patton smiled. </p><p>“I know this is hard, but you don’t have to figure out everything by the time you get your soulmark, and your relationship doesn’t have to look like your parents’ or like anyone else's for that matter.” Logan glanced down at his own soulmark, covered securely by his watch. Emile had said almost the same thing to him before he turned sixteen. He looked back up to meet Patton’s eyes. “You have an infinitesimal amount of time to figure out things with your soulmate.”</p><p>Something in Patton’s expression changed. “...infinitesimal?”</p><p>“Yes. A large amount.”</p><p>The edges of Patton’s mouth tipped up. “That’s not what infinitesimal means.”</p><p>“Of course it is.”</p><p>“No, it’s really not.” Patton let out a small giggle. “It means really small.”</p><p>“I’m afraid you are mistaken.”</p><p>“Let’s look it up!” Patton pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened it. After a few seconds of typing, he let out a satisfied chuckle. He held out the phone for Logan to look. “See?”</p><p> </p><p>in·fin·i·tes·i·mal</p><p>/ˌinfinəˈtes(ə)m(ə)l/</p><p>
  <em> adjective </em>
</p>
<ol>
<li>extremely small.</li>
</ol><p>         "an infinitesimal pause"</p><p> </p><p>Logan’s jaw dropped. “I- um- wow--” He continued to sputter until Patton cheerfully cut him off. </p><p>“I can’t believe I knew a word that you didn’t!”</p><p>“I assure you, this does not happen often. And it won’t happen again.”</p><p>Patton seemed to realize how upset he was. He tilted his head. “It’s alright. Everyone makes mistakes. Plus-- now you know!”</p><p>“I-- I suppose you are right, Patton.”</p><p>“I know I am! Just like I’m right about the meaning of infinitesimal!” He broke out laughing. </p><p>But he wasn’t laughing <em> at </em>Logan. He was laughing with him. And… Logan found himself laughing along. With real, gut-wrenching, cheek blushing laughter. Logan hated being wrong! But… Patton didn’t make him feel stupid. Not in the way his father did, not even in the way Virgil sometimes did. </p><p>Logan hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i’m going to go ahead say that logan is autistic in this fic. i personally don't have autism, so if i'm characterizing it in an inaccurate and/or offensive way plz tell me and i’ll do my absolute best to improve in the future!</p><p>also the thing about the magnet with conversation rules on it is real. its on my fridge and it has no right to be as helpful as it is. </p><p>thx for reading! hope you enjoyed!</p>
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